Kili's Completed Life
by redapplecandie
Summary: What if Kili didn't die? What if Elven magic happened, and he and Tauriel could have a happy ending?


I am old.  
My bones are the heaviest stone, my beard a dull white, my eyes filmed with the rheum of age.

So much life has passed in the last two hundred eighty years. Friends lost, treasures found, all memories now.

My folk are declining, my heirs impatient for my throne.

I was never supposed to take this throne. My uncle, Thorin Oakenshield, King, was driven to madness, and killed by Azog in the final battle. My elder brother Fíli was heir, and a great King Under the Mountain he would have made.

The Battle took them both away from me, from Erebor.

I was supposed to perish there as well. Bolg did his job well. I did not know that the Woodland Elf Tauriel had placed magic upon me to keep me alive. I did not even know that Elves could work magic, or that it was not supposed to work on a mere Dwarf. At times, I think it may have been better to perish.

I wandered the battlefield for three days after Thorin and Fíli fell, after Tauriel healed me. Three days of sadness and grief, unable to comprehend the enormous void I felt in my chest whenever I thought of them.

Tauriel followed me.

I fought her. Begged her to let Death claim me. After all, what worth was a life without my brother? To her credit, she did not relent. She carried me from the battlefield to the outskirts of Mirkwood, to a small abandoned hermit's hut.

There, she spent the next nine months restoring me to physical health, and attempting to restore my sanity.

Of that madness, I recall very little. Sunlit glades, ancient trees, bubbling brooks. Tauriel's never-ending patience and love. The nights spent learning the stars in the sky.

I knew that I loved her. Knew that since she saved me in Mirkwood from the Children of Ungoliant. Knew when she captured me and locked me in King Thranduil's dungeon. Knew when she skipped the Mereth en' Silma, the Feast  
of Starlight, to talk with me. Knew when she allowed our wild river escape. Knew when she slew the Orcs after I was shot, and had released the River Gate. Knew when she followed me to Lake Town, and saved me with Athelas. Knew when she appeared at Raven Hill.

Elves are very adept at hiding their emotions. Months went by before Tauriel allowed her emotions to unfurl completely. That first kiss was sunlight and joy, each kiss after was increasingly sweet.

We spent the next several months entwined in each other, her teaching me about Elven forest ways, me teaching her about Dwarvish mountain ways. I had never felt so alive, so young, as I did in that forest, which is extremely odd for a Dwarf.

I did not know that we were hidden from King Thranduil, although I should have suspected it. The Elven King had no love for Dwarves, especially the line of Durin. When Legolas found us, I thought for sure our time was ended. That Tauriel was able to persuade him to let us be will forever be a mystery. I suspect now that she spoke to him of his feelings towards her. We all had pretended not to notice his bearing when with her.

Once Tauriel had healed me with her kisses, guilt quickly set in. The idyllic life we were living just could not last. I began to see apparitions of Thorin and Fíli, urging me to return to Erebor, and claim the kingship. The visions first beset me rarely, then with ever increasing frequency, until they were following me for hours at a time.

I kept this from Tauriel, not wishing her to have doubts of saving me. I simply could not bear her sadness. I wonder now if she could have helped me be rid of them, if only I were honest with her.

When the visions got to be too much, I finally relented.

When Tauriel left our retreat to discuss matters with Legolas in the heart of the forest, I gathered my belongings, and provisions for my journey home. Using the knowledge taught to me by my Elven lover, I left the forest, hiding my tracks, and set out for Erebor.

Three weeks after setting out, I finally reached the Lonely Mountain. I did not hurry, but did not linger. As I got further away from the forest, and closer to the Lonely Mountain, I felt a strange weariness descend on me, heavy as stone.

Not wishing to cause a large scene, I waited until the dawn to approach the gates. Asking for, and obtaining, an audience with the King (whomever that may have been, I did not know who took the title), proved exceptionally easy.

Dáin Ironfoot, a distant cousin, sat upon the throne. To say he was surprised to know me alive was like saying the sky was blue. After hearing my tale, and confirming that I was indeed Kíli, son of Dís, he still wasloath to give the throne to me. It was only after the apparitions of Thorin and Fíli formed before him that he gave me the throne.

Thus Kíli, son of Dís became King Under the Mountain.

For two hundred years I ruled the declining Erebor. We kept mostly to ourselves, not wishing to get involved in the world again. When the War of the Ring was upon us, we sent Gimli, son of my friend Gloin, to represent us in the Fellowship. We also defeated evil at the Battle of Dale, losing many great Dwarves and Men in that battle. Once the Ring was destroyed, we  
retreated again behind our mountain fastness, counting our gold, and dreaming of days past.

The Fourth Age was beginning, and glad tidings of the changes in the land reached our halls. The cleansing of the Mirkwood Forest was especially joyous, as that forest meant as much to me as Erebor did. If I were honest with myself, it was a single inhabitant of that forest, rather than the forest as a whole that I thought of, but whenever my thoughts strayed to my Elven love, Thorin and Fíli appeared to remind me of my duties, so I learned to keep her memory sealed away.

Now though, my mind spent more time wandering the past than it did in the present. Erebor prospered, the inhabitants thrived, as much as a declining race could do. It was a time of Men now. The Elves had begun to pass into the West, while we Dwarves remained in our underground halls.

I had selected my own heir, a son of Dáin, and was preparing to live out the rest of my days in comfort, dreaming of times past, when Erebor had an unexpected visitor.  
_

"Your Majesty, a visitor has arrived. A most unusual visitor."

I closed my eyes, dispelling the visions of starlight that beset me, and opened them, focusing on my Seneschal.

"Erebor has lately entertained a host of unusual visitors, what is different about this one?" I asked, recalling the latest troupe of Elves from Lòrien who had feasted in our halls recently, touring the great sites of Middle-Earth.

"Well, it appears to be a man, unlike any man we have seen before. He wears all white robes, and has a most prestigious looking white beard, and rides upon a sleek white steed. Shall we admit him?" Garin, my Seneschal was young, and apparently did not pay attention to stories told around the fires.

A feeling of… something… kindled in my chest. Was it hope? Excitement? I did not remember what those felt like.

"Yes Garin. Admit him, and bring him directly here."

"As you wish." Garin walked out of the throne room, his heavy boots fading away.

I knew of only two who walked Middle-Earth in white. Saruman, who was defeated in the Shire an age past. And Gandalf. Gandalf, the Wizard of our Company, and of the Fellowship. How he was still alive, I did not know. I was eager to find out; as word had reached us that he sailed away from our lands.

A short time passed where I fell into the past again, and Garin's heavy footsteps roused me from my waking dreams. Following behind him was indeed Gandalf the White.

"Gandalf, my old friend." I smiled, and stepped down from the dais, extending my arms.

"Kíli, my dear, dear friend. It is good to be with you again." He accepted my embrace, turning me back to the throne.

I clapped my hands, and Garin brought a second chair, setting it to my right.

"What news from the outside world? I confess, we have kept mostly to ourselves these last years. That is mostly my fault, for I am old, and my mind rarely lets me live in the modern times, preferring instead to wander in the halls of days gone by. I had heard that you left Middle-Earth, for the Undying Lands. Why return?"

Gandalf's eyes twinkled, and he quickly looked around the empty hall. "I have returned to complete one last task. One last bit of unfinished business, and I am hoping I can complete it very soon."

I lifted one eyebrow, "And how may I help you with your task? You know that anything Erebor has is yours."

"Kíli, my dear boy, I wish you to accompany me on one last journey. It will only take a few weeks, and then you can content yourself however you wish."

I grinned at Gandalf's calling me 'dear boy', since I was nearing three hundred years old, old even for a Dwarf. Then the rest of his words reached me, and my body chilled.

"Gandalf, I am old. I do not think I could make such a journey. And given your past history with journeys, I am not sure I can live through one. Tell me, what is this journey you wish to take? Where are you going?"

He signaled to Garin, who brought a tray of meat and bread, and two tankards of mead.

"I simply wish to re-visit all of the old places from our Quest together. Mirkwood, the house of Beorn, Rivendell, Bree, the Shire."

I took a sip from the tankard to hide my expression. I knew that he was hiding something from me, but I couldn't help the spark of … something…that arose at the mention of Mirkwood, now the Forest of Greenleaves.

As I was forming a reply, movement caught my eye. I turned to look, and saw the apparitions of Thorin and Fíli. I had not seen them in many years, since I had learned to repress certain memories.

To my surprise, they were smiling benevolently at me, both indicating approval.

I nearly choked on my mead. Quickly glancing at Gandalf, I saw him looking at the ghosts, with a knowing look upon his face. He inclined his head to them, and they bowed back.

"Gandalf, you can see them?" I was proud that my voice did not waver.

"Of course I can dear boy. And it seems that they wish for you to accompany me. Perhaps your life's work is at an end, and your reward is at hand." He winked at me, grabbing a slice of meat from the tray.

My mind began to furiously think. I had completed everything I had set out to do in Erebor, and was ready to hand over the kingship to my heir. Really, I could leave immediately. I did not need to attend any coronation ceremonies, or parties. As I thought this, Fíli gave me a sharp look, one eyebrow raised, and I knew that I must complete my duties, or they would not be satisfied. I was always amazed that my brother knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Gandalf," I said, reaching a decision, "I will join you. I must remain here for one week, while we arrange a Kingship feast, and I pass the crown to Dorin. Then I am yours."

The weight I felt leave my shoulders, and the relief of doing something again, made me feel like the young adventurer that I once was.

I did not always dislike celebrations. In my younger days, I could feast and drink with the best of them. It took me some years to realize why I could no longer enjoy things, and some years more to get over it.

As the ending of the week-long fete drew near, I found myself caring less of what was happening around me, and more of the journey ahead.

Gandalf and I were slated to depart the next morning, and I knew that I would not return to Erebor. I spoke to everyone I could, farewelling them with advice and gifts. Nearly all of my possessions I gifted to others, as I could not take all of them with me.

I kept the Key of Thror, several of Fili's knives and his beard clasps, and my rune stone. Along with other travel necessities, I also pulled my bow from a high hidden shelf, and strung it. Running my hands over the weathered wood and intricate carvings, I allowed myself the memory of receiving it. After losing my Dwarven bow sometime during the Battle, I had not thought to ever pick one up again.

As part of my healing, Tauriel had presented me with this bow, claiming that repetitive action would be soothing to my mind, as would a familiar activity. I did not wish to believe her, as I had then equated the deaths of my uncle and brother to my failure as an archer. Not to mention that Dwarves were not quite respected for using a distance weapon such as that,  
however I had long suspected that I was a changeling, and not quite full Dwarf.

I do not know what wood she crafted this magnificent weapon from, but I know she did it just for me, as it was customized to my stature, and strength. Accompanying the bow, I pulled down a worn sheath, full of Elven arrows, fletched with thrush feathers, in homage to our Quest. I was surprised to string and draw the bow almost effortlessly, since I had not touched it since my return to Erebor. I should have known that anything of Elven make would last several centuries of daily use, nevermind no use at all.

Unstringing the bow, I set it and the sheath next to my packed saddlebags, and looked around my chamber.

Nothing of me remained. All of my memories were either given away, or secreted about my person. I knew it was silly to walk around my own halls armed to the teeth, but the hidden knives kept Fili close to my heart, as did the Key on a mithril chain around my neck.

I sighed, and opened the chamber door, exiting to the hallway. Brightly woven tapestries hung on the walls, depicting historical Dwarven accomplishments.

I eventually arrived at the Gallery of Kings, and found my heir Dorin silently sitting upon the steps to the throne.

Walking across the solid gold floor, I looked around at the high archways and colorful lineage tapestries. I had made special effort to restore those after the dragon Smaug had destroyed most of them.

I reached the dais, and settled myself next to Dorin in companionable silence. I knew that he needed to take some time to absorb the enormity of becoming king, and though I had been grooming him for the position for the last hundred years, it still is a difficult step to take when the time comes.

"I wish I had some last minute words of wisdom for you, but I have imparted all that I know. And you know well enough the joys and sorrows of this life."

Dorin looked at me, a half smile on his face. His beard was a riot of curls and roan colors. I had a flashback to when I was younger, and was teased for my lack of beard. Now that I think about it, my beard didn't really grow until my return to Erebor.

"I think that I know all I need to know. The rest will be experience. Is that not what you always said? 'Wisdom comes from experiencing things'. I have travelled Middle-Earth, met the Men of Gondor and Rohan, been to the Shire, and stayed with the Elves. If I have not gathered some wisdom by now, you may as well give up on me."

I studied Dorin while he spoke, noting the light in his eyes, and the passion in his voice. I knew that Erebor would be just fine. Unexpectedly, I reached up to the heavy coronet on my head, and took it off. The heavy beaten gold, engraved with runes, and large gemstones gleamed in the firelight.

"You are ready," I said, holding out the crown. "May your axe always be true, and your hammer strong. Rule well."

Dorin took the circlet of gold, and reverently held it between his hands. As he was gazing at the new symbol of his authority, I rose from the steps, and began to walk away. I much preferred this quiet exchange, rather than in the hall full of others.

Returning to my chambers, I gathered my saddlebags and bow and arrows. Throwing a cloak over my shoulders, I ducked into a small side passage, dimly lit, and dusty. Encountering no one else, I arrived at the small stables where I found Gandalf holding the lead to a fat red pony, and standing next to a brilliant white stallion.

"Sometimes I think you can read minds," I said to him, slinging the bags over the pony, and mounting up. "I was going to send a messenger to you after I readied the animals."

Gandalf winked, then turned to mount, "A Wizard never shares his secrets."

We left Erebor then, the sun setting and the birds singing. I started to imagine the reaction that people would have the next morning, when they showed up to see us off, before discovering that we had already left, and laughed out loud.

Gandalf looked at me quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

"I was just imagining the uproar when people discover that we have already left, before their big going-away party."

He let out a boisterous laugh, shaking his head. "I think Dorin can handle any problems that arise. He has a good head on his shoulders. Although, Lady Celedin might take some extra soothing. I expected her to be camped out at the stables awaiting you."

I grimaced, thinking of the elderly Dwarven matron who had been pursuing me for the last fifty years. She was extremely persistent, although when asked, could give no real reason for wanting to marry me. I, of course, had no interest in any women at all, aside from Tauriel. I was almost afraid to ask Gandalf if he had heard any news of her. I did not know if she even remained, or if she had sailed away with her kin.

Gandalf must have followed the play of emotions on my face, for he softly said, "She remains, and has been very active in restoring the forest these last years."

My heart jumped in my chest, and a flush spread over my cheeks.

"I am glad she has found reason to stay." I said, not wishing to raise my hopes any higher. Gandalf just quirked his eyebrow with a slight smile, but did not say anything else.

We rode in silence, reaching the shores of the Long Lake just after the moon rose. The night was warm, but we started a small fire anyways.

As I lay back in my bedroll, I gazed up at the stars. I did not often get the opportunity to star-gaze, as it was expected of me to remain inside the Mountain. I let the light of the stars wash over me, and absorbed the pure memory of them. If I closed my eyes, I could hear Tauriel speaking to me of the starlight, through the bars of the prison cell. That night did not  
seem like captivity to me, unless it was being held captive by her eyes, or her voice.

"It is memory, precious and pure," I whispered, closing my eyes, and composing myself for sleep.  
_

When I woke up the next morning, I listened to the rustlings of the pony and horse, and Gandalf's steady breathing. Opening my eyes, I saw that dawn was fast approaching. I did not immediately notice that I had no rheumy film to clear from my eyes, as I usually did.

Sitting up, I stretched and yawned. Oddly enough, I did not feel so old today; my bones did not ache, despite the chill of the air. Moving to the fire, I stirred the coals, coaxing a small blaze. Setting some more wood to kindle, I picked up the water bags, and walked to the edge of the Lake.

As I was bending to fill the bags, I caught sight of myself in the still water. And recoiled, yelping in shock and dropping the bags. Holding a hand to my racing heart, I slowly peeked over the water again.

My face, normally full of ancient lines, was smooth. The sagging cheeks and drooping eyes had reverted to taut, firm skin. But most shocking of all, my long hair and long beard had turned a rich dark brown, as it was in my youth. I touched my face in wonderment, and the reflection in the water copied the movement.

I suddenly leapt up, letting out a loud joyous cry. The pony and horse jerked their heads in startlement, and I then noticed Gandalf sitting next to the fire, casually puffing on his pipe, watching me.

"Gandalf! Look at me!" I cried, running – running, me! – over to him. I excitedly grabbed his hands, pulling him up and into a little dance.

"Oh, oh, slow down my boy! Not all of us are in our second youth!"

Sobering, I dropped his hands. "Gandalf, what has happened to me? I have never heard of this before!"

He straightened his robes and settled back down next to the fire.

"Hmmm… well…hmmm…" He puffed a few times on his pipe, studying me intently. "I have not heard of this either, but I think it is a gift. A very rare thing, to have a second youth. I am curious how long this one will last you."

"What do you mean? I am nearly three hundred years old! Dwarves rarely live past this! Do you mean I will have to live for another three hundred years?" My knees buckled beneath me, and I dropped to the ground.

"Kili, do you know the history of your lineage? Well, no I suppose not. It was not general knowledge, and still is not, judging by your expression. It was so long ago, no surprise no one will voluntarily speak of the 'shame' that befell the line of Durin. Folk were most un-flexible in the Second Age. Stuck up fools, the lot of them. Why, I remember the war that almost started between the Elves and the Dwarves. Well, until I put my foot down of course. Such foolishness could not be tolerated, for the good of the land, you see."

I could only stare at him, my vocal cords seemed frozen. My mouth flopped open and shut like a landed fish.

"The story goes thus. In the Second Age, there was a Sindarin King in Mirkwood – Oropher. Oropher had a sister, Nerdeniel. Nerdeniel was an odd Elf, much more odd than Elves usually are. Her mind remained very childlike throughout her life. She was not very pleasing to look upon, which was unheard of amongst Elves, especially Sindar ones. But Oropher  
was very protective of her, and guarded her closely.

"She slipped away one day, and ended up on the borders of the Forest. There, she encountered Durin III, your ancestor. At the time, Durin had just received a Ring of Power, and was under some sort of spell from it. He was from Khazud-dum, and visiting kin in Erebor. The Ring made him see her as an odd Dwarf maiden, too tall, and very ugly without the extra hair  
of his kind. She did not know to 'stay away' from him; she only saw a new play-mate, a friend.

"They spent a few weeks together, until Durin realized that time was passing quickly, and he had duties to attend to. He left Nerdeniel, and did not intend to see her ever again. She was found by a frantic Oropher shortly after, and did not say anything about Durin, except to call him a friend.

"Life went on, but five months after her return, it was discovered that Nerdeniel was pregnant. Oropher went into a rage, but there was little that could be done, as there was no information on her mysterious lover. They could only wait until the birth, and see what came of it.

"When her time came, Nerdeniel had little trouble. The child, a boy, was extremely small, and very hairy. When Oropher was told, his anger roused the might of the Woodland Realm. They marched upon Erebor, demanding justice for Nerdeniel's honor. I happened to be at Amon Lanc, where Oropher resided. I followed them to Erebor, and also had Nerdeniel and the  
child with me. When Oropher challenged the gates of Erebor, and Durin was preparing to charge out, I stepped in between them, holding the child.

"Many words were exchanged, but thankfully it did not come to blows. Nerdeniel was able to persuade Oropher to stand down, and tearfully asked Durin to take charge of the child. Durin hesitated of course, because who had ever heard of an Elf / Dwarf half breed? But again, the Ring took control of him, and he accepted. He parted ways with Nerdeniel, never to see her again. Oropher returned to the forest, and the incident was never spoken of again.

"The child, now called Durin IV, grew to be an average Dwarf in appearance. He was slightly taller than usual, but had the stocky build and strength. One thing he was lacking however was a full Dwarven beard. And his mind was not as sharp as his father, but not as fey as his mother. He was made heir, and gradually everyone forgot about it. Of course, he was killed at the end of the Second Age, but had already fathered the continuation of the line.

"So you see, Kili, you actually have some Elven blood in you. And judging by the look of you, quite a bit of it is very active."

Throughout Gandalf's tale, my mind began to see many things more clearly. My height, always taller than my peers. My lack of a proper beard growing up. My fascination and skill with archery. The peace I felt when surrounded by trees. The connection I immediately had with Tauriel.

"Why am I getting younger? How long will I live?"

Gandalf began to pack his saddlebags and 'hmmm-ed at me again. "I suspect that the Elven part of you reacted strangely to being underground, and closed in for most of your life. Now that you are out in the open again, and free of responsibilities, your Elven side is becoming more dominant. I do not think your physical form will change any more, you will not get taller, and your fingers will not get longer, however your ears may change. As for how long, I suspect many, many more centuries. Elves are immortal, unless willfully killed. Dwarves live for several centuries. Durin the Deathless lived for many a long year, but Durin IV was killed before he was very old, so we do not really know. I think that because you left the Mountain, and your Elven side is strengthening, you will find yourself with more Elven traits."

I slowly began to gather our supplies, wondering again at the ease my body was functioning.

"This is all so very strange. I do not know what to say."

"I would say 'thank you' to the Gods, whoever they may be, for this incredible gift you have been given."

Packing up the camp, we began to ride leisurely towards the west. I wanted to dig my heels into the pony, and gallop to the Forest, but I had no idea what I was going to do when I got there. How would I even find her? Did she want to be found? I knew Elves were very capricious; she may have changed her mind, moved on to a taller, more handsome Elf.

My eyes travelled over the landscape, and I marveled at how far I could see. Behind us, the Lonely Mountain rose, looming over the hills. It was late spring, and the hills were covered in green grass and wildflowers. Birds flew everywhere, darting down to the earth and soaring back up.

I was reminded of the Eagles, and our daring escape from Azog the Defiler. The exhilaration of being so high up, and flying so fast was worth the near death from the Wargs.

We rode in silence for a time, enjoying the sunlight and scenery. We ate lunch in the saddle, Gandalf sensing my impatience to reach the Forest.

When the sun was sinking in the sky, I began to see a thin line of green on the horizon. Our destination was so close, but I knew that we should stop for the night. I hesitated to admit to myself that I needed extra time to prepare for what we might find on the morrow.

I didn't know if Tauriel would still be using the small hermit cottage we had loved in. Why would she? She had the entire forest to roam. From where we were starting to set up camp, I figured we would reach that cottage in mid afternoon of the following day.

How would she react when we came to her? I was beginning to have serious doubts of this adventure, even if my heart was soaring at the thought of seeing her again.

"Stop doubting Kili."

I started in surprise, jerking my head up. I had forgotten Gandalf was with me. 

"I am not doubting, Gandalf. Just wondering and worrying if I am still in her thoughts. It has been quite a long time, a mere second in her life."

Gandalf shifted position, leaning against the saddle and taking slow puffs on his pipe.

"I think you will find that you are very much so in her thoughts, and never left them for long, in fact. But that is not my news to share."

If any statement under the sun could have piqued my interest more, I would have loved to hear it. Now, crowding in with the doubts and worry was curiosity. I could imagine her in my mind, tall and graceful. Sun shining on her red hair, face lit up with emotion. But niggling into the scene was a male Elf, also tall and graceful, with a waterfall of brown hair and piercing ice blue eyes. I knew it would not be Legolas, her one time suitor of old, since he had sailed away from Middle Earth, but I feared she was not alone.

Intruding into that thought was a third Elf, a female. Before I could wonder just why my fantasy would show me two strangers, I watched the female skip lightly over to Tauriel and enfold her in an embrace.

"Mother, they are almost here! We should prepare for tomorrow!"

The voice of the younger Elf maiden was unfamiliar to me, but her dark blonde hair and blue eyes sparked a moment of recognition that I couldn't identify.

My heart stopped beating as I heard (remembered?) Tauriel's sweet laughter.

"Daughter-mine, all will go as it will go. I do not think your Father would care one way or another what preparations are in place, as long as we are all together."

The image began to fuzz out even as I tried to grasp it in my mind. I slowly opened my eyes, not having remembered closing them. It was full dark now, the stars were out and the moon had risen. The campfire had burned down to coals, and Gandalf was rolled over, snoring softly.

Before I could stop it, a quiet sob escaped my throat. A daughter. My lover had a child, with probably Legolas, as the girl had his light hair and eyes. I could not begrudge her any type of happiness, since I was the one who had left her without a word. It didn't occur to me that Tauriel had said "your Father", when Legolas had sailed away.

I quietly built up the fire, to heat water for tea, and spent the remainder of the night walking the paths of memory.

_

I must have slept, or at least dozed, for the next thing I was aware of was Gandalf frying rashers of bacon and humming quietly to himself.

Seeing me stir, he moved the pot of water to the flames and began heating water.

"Ah, about time you roused from your visions, boy. We have far to go yet on our last day together."

I slowly stretched, savoring the feel of not aching all of the time, and got up. I began packing up the camp, and brushing the animals in preparation for departure.

We ate breakfast quickly, and soon were on the way.

The forest drew closer and closer, and my excitement grew. Regardless of what or whom I found with Tauriel, I vowed to be happy for her.

Forgoing lunch, we kept riding, reaching the trees at midday.

As soon as we entered the leafy shade, a tall imposing figure appeared on the path.

"Stop, and identify your business."

My jaw dropped in disbelief, for here standing in front of me was the young male Elf I had imagined in my dream.

My shock increased tenfold when the young female stepped onto the path next to him.

"Thorindriel, please. You know perfectly well whom approaches and why. Do not think to stand on pretend ceremony anymore. There is no more reason to guard the borders of the forest as once before."

She stepped forward to take the halter of Gandalf's pony.

"Master Wizard, pleasant greetings to you. Welcome back." She turned to acknowledge me with a bow of her tawny head. "Master Dwarf, be welcome in our domain."

The male rolled his eyes at her open friendliness. "Filieona, you are far too trusting. We should verify their identities before admitting them to our hidden place." In spite of his words, he moved to the head of my pony, and began following the path deeper into the forest.

My head bobbed in shock, first to him, then to her, then to Gandalf, and looping over again. I tried to form words in my mouth, but all that came out was "I… I…"

The girls mouth quirked, and she giggled lightly. The boy shook his head, and continued walking, at a slightly faster pace. Gandalf on the otherhand, let out a boisterous laugh.

Within minutes, we were approaching a break in the trees, and my memory told me that there was a large clearing ahead, with a hermit's hut.

Stepping into the meadow, I saw the hut, which had been enlarged, and updated. It had been two hundred years after all. My eyes roved the scene, taking in the burbling brook and the grove of fruit trees, before lighting on the garden, and the figure I saw there.

The joy that appeared on her face must have been mirrored on mine. She began to first walk, then run to us. I goaded the pony to a faster pace with a loud "hyah", my eyes never leaving hers.

I jumped out of the saddle, into her waiting arms, knocking her to the ground. I couldn't control my emotions, laughing and crying in turns, kissing her lips, murmuring I don't know what.

I cradled her face between my hands, staring into her eyes, repeating "My love, my love" over and over.

Several minutes of this went by; until a polite "ahem!" reminded us we were in company.

The two Elves looked embarrassed, and unsure of what to do, while Gandalf had a huge grin on his face, and looked nearly bursting with glee.

Tauriel helped me up, gripping my hand, and motioning towards the others.

"Kili, my heart, I wish to make known to you Thorindriel and Filieona, my twin children. My son, my daughter, this is your Father, Kili."

As the words pierced the fog of joy in my brain, my wonderment grew and turned into pure happiness.

The four of us joined our hands, and the circle of my life was completed. 


End file.
